


I'll Have a Caramel Macchiato With a Dash of Desperately Single

by twerkinshield



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, And Derek is a smooth flirty motherfucker, F/M, Hipsters, In which Stiles is a hipster who bakes and Erica is his dating guru, M/M, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 11:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twerkinshield/pseuds/twerkinshield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stiles is pathetically single, Erica is his dating guru, and Derek knows how to read the signs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Have a Caramel Macchiato With a Dash of Desperately Single

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw this prompt on tumblr and couldn't resist! Not with the hilarious picture and the fact that the stick figure looks so much like him! Here is the link to the post on my blog (http://twerkinshield.tumblr.com/post/51740416806/brolininthetardis-this-is-a-coffeeshop-au)

It’s been a slow day for Stiles. At least it’s been that way since his boss cut him off after his fourth espresso before noon and since the last customer left after the morning coffee rush. One of these days he’ll get an award for how goddamn sparkling clean the entire fucking café is, but today is not that day. Erica smirks at him from her place behind the pastry counter, carefully dusting each éclair with a sprinkle of icing sugar.

“You okay there Robin?”

Trust Erica to know when his mind is running laps around itself.

“Obviously, my gorgeous blonde Batman.”

“Well you look like you’re about two seconds away from pulling a Tony Stark and remaking that cash register into a small robotic menace. Why don’t you go on back and mix the dough for the next batch of scones. People have been whining about getting your amazing apple cinnamon ones back on the shelves.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Stiles grins at her, desperate now for anything to get his mind off of his life as one of the terminally single.

“Well get going, you’re not getting any prettier and I want those scones finished before Boyd comes to pick me up this afternoon.” Her ruby red lips curl at the corners as she whips her dishtowel at Stiles’ butt, making him yelp.

“All right, all right! Don’t get your pretty panties in a twist!”

An éclair splats on the wall beside his head as Stiles leaves the front desk cackling.

\---------------------------------------------------------

An hour later Stiles emerges from the kitchen with the fresh apple scones on a baking tray, only to find Erica chatting away with some guy at the counter. And _hello_ what a guy he is; jet black hair that curls gently at the temples, deep and penetrating eyes, and a jawline that could cut diamond. And his _ass_! Oh dear sweet baby Jesus on a tricycle there is a God and he is _so_ merciful. Mr. handsome stranger looks up and stares at Stiles, who is standing there gawking like an idiot, gone a very fetching shade of crimson, and is covered head to toe in flour. Erica turns toward him and slowly gives the single most terrifying grin Stiles has ever seen on her beautiful face.

“Well I hate to chat and run, but my shift is over and I have a date.” Erica shrugs on her jacket with all the grace of a deadly jungle cat. “My lovely co-worker here will ring up your order. Stiles is _very_ good with his hands.”

With a wink and a kiss on his cheek, Erica grabs her purse and flounces out the door to the café, leaving a flustered Stiles and a bewildered handsome dude to stare awkwardly at each other.

“Is she always so… intense?” Handsome guy asks.

“Yep. And that’s her in a good mood. Erica in a bad mood is just shy of the apocalypse.” Distracted, Stiles tries to shove the tray of scones onto the cutting board and nearly knocks the tip jar onto the floor.

“Shit! Sorry! I just – WOAH JESUS CHRIST DON’T FALL okay good you caught it. Wow.” Stiles blinks. “Those are some reflexes dude.”

Handsome stranger chuckles at Stiles’ reaction. “Don’t call me dude, my name’s Derek. And you should’ve seen me in highschool. I was all gawky limbs and no coordination.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

A smirk. “Maybe one day you’ll grow out of that phase.”

“Well okay Mr. Sassypants” Stiles puts his hands on his hips. “Would you like to actually order or would you like a cup of fuck you to go?”

“I’ll have a caramel macchiato and one of those scones please.”

“Would you like a side of sass with that?”

“I thought that’s what I was already getting.”

“Oh honey if you think _this_ is sass then you clearly don’t know me.” Stiles dramatically flips his oven mitts over his shoulder, and pulls a marker out of his apron, writing Derek’s order on the Styrofoam cup.

“No, but I’d like to get to know you.” Derek leans forward on the counter, elbows resting on either side of the scone tray.

Stiles chokes on nothing and nearly drops Derek’s cup.

“Ahaaaaa good one!” A nervous laugh. “You nearly had me there for a second!”

“Well I’d _like_ to have you.” Derek’s fingers gently trace up Stiles’ arm, stopping the frantic tapping on the cup.

“No but seriously, did Erica put you up to this? Because I know I’ve been single for a long time but still that’s no excuse for – “

“It was on the sign?” Derek’s brows have furrowed in confusion.

“What sign?” Stiles blanches.

Derek gestures vaguely towards the front door with his free hand. “The blackboard that’s siting outside with the crappy stick figure on it.”

Stiles dusts the flour off his Ray Bans and marches over to the aforementioned sign, cursing his luck all the way there. He opens the door, Derek following close on his heels, and glances down at the incriminating blackboard. Of course today is the day that Erica decides to actually do something with her artistic abilities and _this_ is what she fucking chooses to do. Beside the cheesy stick drawing of what appears to be Stiles, in large pink bubble letters reads:

**TODAY YOUR BARISTA IS:**

**1.** **Hella fucking gay.**

**2.** **Desperately single.**

**For your drink today I recommend: you give me your number.**

**XOXO Stiles**

The moment is broken when Derek guffaws loudly at the look of shock on Stiles’ face, as Stiles sputters incoherently. It’s a good thing that Derek doesn’t mind cheesy setups or Stiles would truly be up shit creek without a paddle. But he can’t really bring himself to be mad at Erica, not with Derek’s number in his phone and the promise of dinner and a movie on Friday. 


End file.
